Robbers
by Dorchester
Summary: A lot of things will happen before Edward realizes why exactly he finds Bella's flat mate, Jasper, so attractive. Things like, for example, becoming friends with old Carlisle, facing the Volturi - managers of MOHAI, - and then planning and executing a robbery. Stuff like that, oh, the fun! Rated M for a reason, 'cause Edward and Jasper will become lovers, eventually. Promise.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** _Here we go, as announced in my FB group - a new multichapter story for you to enjoy (hopefully). Romance, humor, and some angst coming your way!_

 _Thanks to Loopy Lou, Lotty de Bonte, and Sally Hopkinson aka Alice's White Rabbit. Love you so much, ladies! You make my words sound beautiful!  
Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters. I own this peculiar AH plot. LOL_

 _Now, then._

 **Chapter 1**

It was one of those days when the birds were singing and the sun was shining bright. Summer in Seattle rarely offered such beautiful weather; the rays of sunlight, which joyfully squeezed through the blinds were nearly miraculous.

Jasper got out of bed with a warm feeling inside his chest. Something really nice was going to happen that day, he was sure of it.

Still drowsy with sleep, he found his way out of his bedroom, down the corridor, all the way to the bathroom, using door handles and other solid objects as landmarks. What made his eyes suddenly and widely open was the unknown figure sitting on the toilet.

It was a male figure sporting white shorts pooled at the ankles, and nothing else—except for a newspaper, which happened to act as armor for his manly bits from a stranger's eyes.

The figure shifted nervously on the toilet seat and coughed.

"I could have used the lock, right?" The stranger made a funny face and ran delicate fingers through disheveled, longish hair.

"Um, yes," Jasper retorted wisely and shut the bathroom door all too quickly.

"What the fuck," Jasper murmured. "Bella!" No answer came, and Jasper assumed she was still asleep, so he banged on her bedroom door. "Bella!" That came out like more of a shout than a gentle wake-up call, but, to hell with it, he needed answers, and he needed them now.

It took Bella less than fifteen seconds to join him in the hall, barefoot and pajama-clad, looking furious.

"What's the matter with you?" she snapped. "Yelling at such ungodly hours is considered rude, you know."

Bella stomped a tiny foot to the floor then grabbed his arm and tried to drag Jasper toward the kitchen. "Is the coffee ready?" She yawned deliberately close to his ear to emphasize how very rude he had been. The trick didn't work; Jasper still needed answers.

"Bells." He composed himself and made an effort to speak quietly. "You don't call ten in the morning an ungodly hour. Now, please do tell, who's the guy in the bathroom?" He firmly stood in place, not falling for her attempt to lead him in the wrong direction.

Bella released his arm all of a sudden, and they both heard her palm slapping her thigh. She wrinkled her nose, pursed her lips, then shook her head. The shock in her eyes seemed to be perfectly genuine.

"What guy?"

It was Jasper's turn to wrinkle his nose in perfectly genuine shock. If she didn't know the guy then…

"Wait, I have to see." Bella urged him down the hallway, now in the right direction, and hurried ahead until she reached the bathroom door.

Next, she opened said door unceremoniously and stuck her head inside.

"Uh, hi, Bella," a voice came from the inside. "Would you mind … oh, God. Shit. I'll be out in a minute."

Jasper felt pity for the stranger. Not one, but two people had interrupted his morning routine—a distress which no one, not even the most unpleasant intruder, deserved.

Bella slammed the door closed in haste and clung to Jasper.

"I promise I won't drink any more," she hissed. "I can't even recall his name. I think I remember him from last night in that bar, you know, where they serve my favorite Margaritas. Or was he at the club? Fuck. I'm not sure."

They stood in silence for a while. Bella tortured her brain for the name of the guy. Jasper kept quiet because he simply didn't know what to say.

It wasn't the first time his flat mate brought company back, some dude she'd just met and decided to take home for a quickie before she collapsed in a drunken stupor. She had her problems with alcohol, Jasper knew; who would blame her after what she'd been through. Poor girl. So young, kind-hearted, and beautiful according to everyone. Jasper liked her, and after living for almost a year with her, he had grown attached. He hoped she would find a decent man and get to live her happily ever after. Until that moment, he would stay and help with the rent and make her coffee in the mornings of hangovers.

The click of the bathroom door interfered with Jasper's train of thought. The guy who had graced the toilet seat a moment ago now graced their well-lit hallway with his amazingly noticeable presence.

Jasper stared at the stranger for a few long moments. The white shorts were now in place, hiding what Jasper pretty much wanted to see, but everything else that was on display was breathtaking. The guy was tall, with long limbs and all that came with it; the delicate fingers and even the toes, and, mostly, Jasper noticed, a very kissable, willowy neck. His face was somehow mesmerizing; was it because of the thick eyelashes or the luscious lips, Jasper couldn't tell. He only knew he felt a sudden pull, a strong one.

The guy was looking at Bella, and while he, seemingly, recollected the previous night, his cheeks turned crimson, and his chin fell to his bare chest.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said, and the delicate fingers troubled the tousled hair once again.

Bella snorted. "You know what?" She took the guy's hand in hers. "I have no idea what you're sorry for." She giggled. "You might choose not to tell me at all, and we will be fine."

"But last night I—"

"Oh, shush." Bella stopped him mid-sentence. "Jasper, do we have coffee or don't we?"

It dawned on Jasper he was supposed to answer. "Yes. Yes we do."

Bella was suddenly focused on him. She looked in his eyes, furrowed her brow, then poked him in the stomach.

"Were you drinking last night too?"

She had noticed Jasper had a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Nope," Jasper managed. He had just realized he wasn't capable of uttering more than one syllable.

"What's the matter with you?" Bella asked for a second time that morning, and she suspected it wouldn't be the last.

She knew Jasper all too well. Jasper would turn into this one-syllable man when he was aroused.

"Were you not going to use the bathroom, Jas?" she asked gently, doing her best to help him out of the situation. "Me and, uh…" She realized she still hadn't come up with the guy's name.

"Edward." The stranger laughed nervously. "Nice to meet you again."

"Okay, good," Bella announced, not really politely because, for some reason now, she felt embarrassed. "That's Jasper, I'm Isabella. Only friends call me Bella."

"Are we friends?" the stranger asked. "Since you don't remember me well?"

"I'm starting to remember," Bella admitted. She tilted her head to the side. "Yeah, I do remember some things now, Edward." A huge smile graced her lips.

"You're not mad at me for the, uhm, lack of, well, _performance_ , then?" The guy shifted in place awaiting her answer.

"Not at all," Bella said. "Now let's get to that coffee already."

She led Edward down the hall, leaving Jasper alone with his _arousing_ problem.

 **A/N** Leave me your thoughts, pretty please! *Mwah*


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to Loopy Lou, Lotty de Bonte, and Sally Hopkinson aka Alice's White Rabbit. Thank you for being with me!  
Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters. I own this peculiar AH plot. _

**Chapter 2**

*MOHAI - Museum of History and Industry, Seattle, Lake Union Park

 _Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental._

* * *

Carlisle enjoyed the wonderful weather, sitting cross-legged on the balcony and sipping delicious tea. The morning newspaper lay folded and abandoned on his lap, with all the mundane news, irrelevant obituaries, and dull crossword long forgotten, while the old man peacefully reminisced about his youth.

Back in the day, he'd been a respected member of the Board of MOHAI*. He had prided himself on being the only heir of one of the original founders of the Seattle Historical Society. It seemed only natural he'd been married to the most amazing woman on the planet, his Esme. The fact they weren't able to have children only saddened him on rare occasions. Life had been exquisitely fulfilling, and his youth wasn't tainted by any major troubles.

Unfortunately, his happy times hadn't lasted long. Esme died at the age of 29. The museum was forced to move to new premises. The imbecile low-lifes from the new Management, all blinded by that disgusting man, Aristotle Volturi, had ruined it all.

Carlisle Cullen had started a war with them and had lost. He had retired two years ago, at the age of 70, from the humiliating position of a _janitor_ at his beloved museum.

With his mood gone down the drain, Carlisle sighed and got up to his feet. The tea was cold; he needed a refill. Then a short nap, maybe.

Giving it a second thought, Carlisle decided the nap was more urgent than a second cup of tea. A couple minutes later, he was in his bed, having just closed his eyes. He would easily drift to sleep if it wasn't for the loud, rhythmic thumping of feet which started over his head. Obviously, his neighbors from the third floor had initiated a dance class, he assumed. _Ah, youth._

* * *

Edward tried to repeat Bella's movements but to no avail. Perhaps his lanky limbs weren't designed for dancing. Or he lacked a sense of rhythm. Or both. Whatever the reason, he only managed an impression of a stumbling toddler, resulting in a _not_ flattering giggle coming from the attractive young lady.

"Oh, come on, you did better at the club last night, Edward," Bella pouted.

"I was drunk, sweetheart," Edward retorted. "No barriers and all; you know the drill."

"I think booze doesn't help the uncoordinated, my friend. Must have been something else."

"Maybe it's because I wasn't trying to impress you last night," Edward muttered.

Bella stiffened and debated her answer for a while. "Are you trying to impress me now, Edward?" she whispered softly. "You're doing fine." Her hand reached for his cheek, and her forefinger caressed the skin over his cheekbone gently. "You'd better not rely on a dancing career though," she added and burst into another fit of giggles.

"Am I interrupting?" Jasper's voice came from the kitchen door, startling them. Both Bella's and Edward's head snapped round; they hadn't heard him approaching.

Bella smiled.

As for Edward, well, he wondered if anyone saw his jaw drop for a fraction of a second. He was quick to close his mouth, but no one could stop him from ogling what Jasper looked like at the moment. _He's practically naked under that tiny towel,_ Edward thought, following one droplet of water with his eyes. The descent of that droplet was fascinating, all the way down Jasper's chest and abdomen, until it disappeared in the light, curly hairs of his happy trail. All in all, Jasper had a model's body, Edward concluded, and all that wetness, glistening on broad shoulders, with the addition of shiny droplets hanging from clustered, long eyelashes, served him well . _Wonder who the lucky lady enjoying this body is._

Edward smiled too.

"We're trying to repeat a few steps from last night, and you're not interrupting," Bella's answer echoed through the kitchen.

All three realized the building was very quiet. Oddly quiet. Or maybe it was just them, slightly nervous and thus exaggerating the silence?

The awkwardness disappeared with a loud bang coming from under their feet.

"Pfft, that's old Carlisle," Bella explained to a horrified-looking Edward. "He loves his peace and quiet. He's banging on the ceiling with his broomstick."

"And here I thought the building was haunted," Edward snorted nervously to hide his embarrassment.

"Look, folks. We'd better go out and eat, whaddya say?" Bella suggested. "How does the Bistro around the corner sound, Jas?"

"Yeah." Jasper was okay with the suggestion. Really okay. "You two go; I'll join in a few."

For obvious reasons, Jasper was quick to get dried and dressed. A very tight, black turtleneck shirt was picked for a top. He jumped into his favorite jeans, the pair that outlined his buttocks deliciously, or so he believed. A wide, light brown leather belt was looped in no time, fastened with an impressively huge, shiny, silver belt buckle. Brown cowboy boots finished the ensemble.

Jasper very much wanted to know the reasons for Edward's—How was that? Ah, right— _lack of performance_ last night. He intended to join Bella and Edward as soon as possible and start a conversation about it. He left the apartment in a hurry and descended the first flight of stairs, taking two steps at a time. But then his guilty conscience raised its head. He remembered the old man from the second floor and, suddenly, decided to apologize first then go on with his mission of getting to know Edward.

So, he found himself knocking on Carlisle's door instead of running to the Bistro.

Slow footsteps approached the old man's door from the inside. He must have looked through the spy hole and recognized his visitor because the door was opened immediately.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Jasper?" Carlisle asked.

"Um, I wanted to say we were sorry, sir. For the noise."

"Ah, that's okay." The old man nodded and added a small smile. "Thanks, anyway."

Jasper thought he should turn on his heel and leave, the voice of his conscience now silenced. But then, his neighbor decided to speak further.

"Care to join me for tea, or coffee maybe?" The old man's voice was pleading.

Jasper was raised to be polite to his elders. But he was in a hurry, damn! He was about to refuse when his guilty conscience chose to raise its head once again, so he came up with a compromise.

"Sir, I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. But what if I drop by with my friends this afternoon? We will bring donuts, too. Say, 2 p.m.? Will that be all right?" Jasper blurted out. _Hope they're fine with it._

"Do I get to see lovely Bella?" Carlisle smiled.

"Yup."

"See you at 2 p.m. then." The old man closed the door. "Bring cookies," his muffled voice came from the inside.

Jasper ran down the rest of the stairs, around the corner, and was already panting when he got to the Bistro.

"Did you order?" he asked his friends when he joined them. They had picked a table with two long seats at the sides. Edward was already sitting next to Bella, leaving Jasper with no choice but to sit across from him.

"Yes, mushroom ravioli," Bella answered first.

"And Coke," Edward added.

Jasper noticed Edward wasn't looking at him when he spoke. In fact, he _was_ looking at him, but not in the eyes. Edward's gaze was stuck on the material of the black turtleneck, somewhere around Jasper's outlined right nipple. That only lasted a short moment though, then Edward turned his gaze to Bella; he curled an arm around her shoulders. "We chose the same meal, isn't that interesting?"

Jasper huffed. "I see. Interesting."

 _You are interesting, indeed, Edward,_ he added to himself.

A waitress appeared with their orders; Jasper asked for a burger and fries.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to Loopy Lou, Lotty de Bonte, and Sally Hopkinson aka Alice's White Rabbit._

 _Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. The original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer._

 **Chapter 3.**

"We had a decadent breakfast; we're not really hungry," Bella explained to Carlisle, refusing to take a cookie from the plate, which the old man held right under her nose.

"Pity," their host said. "These are delicious."

He took the plate away and picked a treat himself. He chewed slowly, his eyes closed, nostrils flaring with a prolonged intake of breath.

When he snapped his eyes open, he looked straight at Edward.

"What do you do for a living, young man?" he asked out of the blue. Edward choked on his cookie and spat a few crumbs out.

"Don't worry about that," the old man added. "Just answer my question."

Edward swallowed what remained in his mouth together with his pride.

"Sorry about that. Wasn't expecting an interrogation." He tried to smile politely. "I'm a student. At Seattle University."

"A student? And what's going to become of you? A renowned scientist?"

"An accountant."

"You don't look like an accountant to me. Where's the adventure in that? Don't you like adventure, Edward?"

Carlisle was seated comfortably in an armchair but now leaned forward, attentively awaiting the young man's answer.

"I guess I do," Edward replied hesitantly. "Maybe I'll go to Egypt someday ."

Carlisle stared at him, wide-eyed .

"You think you need to go that far to find an adventure? Bullshit. It's probably waiting right in front of you, here in this room, on this wonderful Saturday afternoon. If you're not deliberately trying to avoid it, that is. Now, how did you meet Bella and Jasper?"

Edward shifted in his seat. He felt like a schoolboy attacked by a bully. But he didn't want to be rude to the old man, so he decided to give him the answer. "I met Bella last night, at a club." The statement sounded lame. Edward couldn't put his finger on the reason, but the whole situation about meeting Bella made a lot more sense than he could put in a sentence. "And I just met Jasper in the morning, in their apartment upstairs." Lamer. Edward knew it, at the bottom of his heart. The universe had made an effort to make this all happen. Mainly, he liked to believe he was destined to meet the girl. Secondly, he was very much pleased to know her flatmate, Jasper. Jasper was a thought-provoking guy. Not that they'd had much of a conversation, but he seemed nice; there were a lot of things Edward wanted to know about Bella and her friend.

"So, you've found out that those two are not _a thing_ , right?" the old man blurted out.

Edward nodded in confirmation, a little confused.

"Why would she pick me up, for starters. I mean, take me to the apartment she shares with him. _If_ they were a _thing_."

Jasper and Bella listened to the exchange, both of them rather interested. Bella was about to open her mouth and speak but kept it shut. Her neighbor didn't actually need to know about her drunken state last night. In the chair next to hers, Jasper fidgeted.

Carlisle's cellphone chimed at that moment, and his three young guests felt relieved for the interruption, each for their own reasons. Edward felt uncomfortable with what he called an interrogation; Bella was afraid someone would bring up the subject of her short loss of memory; and Jasper didn't like how the two conversed as if he and Bella weren't even present.

"Well, hello, Emmett," the old man spoke, the silvery device firmly held against his ear; he had a little problem with those modern phones so he used an old, monochrome, little piece—so easy to operate. He listened to an obviously long tirade by Emmett, shaking his head from time to time, his eyes closed for a while. What the voice at the other end of the line was saying remained unheard by his company.

"No, don't do anything," Carlisle suddenly barked. "You're on their territory." Then he added, his voice a little calmer, "Wait 'til I call you back. I can't speak now; I've got company."

Carlisle put his phone aside and, with a deep sigh, spoke to his companions.

"Now, excuse me, kids. I've got things to tend to. Maybe I shall see you tomorrow again? Or in the next couple days?"

Rising to their feet, the three mumbled their confirmations and hurried to leave. Bella was the first to address the situation while they climbed the stairs to the third floor. "Phew, that was odd."

Just when he was about to answer, Edward tripped over a step. Jasper was accidentally standing very near, and he stretched his arms instinctively to stop Edward's fall. The two young men found themselves stuck in an uncomfortable embrace, Edward's hip flush against Jasper's groin. They were quick to disentangle their bodies but not before Jasper felt a betraying rush of blood rendering his ears red. A moment later, he noticed similar redness covering Edward's cheeks.

* * *

Jane Volturi sighed in contentment and pushed the last drawer closed. All those folders she had to put in alphabetical order, the hundreds of pages she had to go through, the countless photographs, newspaper cutouts, and crumpled postcards; everything was stored, locked, and meticulously enlisted in her notes. Now, she had to type up her notes, save them on the hard drive of her password-protected laptop, then burn the little sheets, which held her handwriting.

Some of the documents in the museum archive were in an awful state, pages ruined by time, or misplaced, some obviously missing. All of them had one thing in common though: they had to disappear. She didn't know what her uncle, Aristotle, was going to do with them. Her mission ended with the listing and descriptions.

She sipped from her coffee cup only to find out there was a mere half-gulp remaining. With a frown on her face, she headed for the vending machine.

There weren't many visitors at the end of the working day; the vast hall was quiet. It was nearing 5 p.m., and everyone would be gone in a little while. The clicking of her high heels was muffled by the wooden floor, but still, the security guy heard it.

"Good afternoon, Jane," the huge, smiling guy greeted her.

"Hello, Emmett," she answered. _Dork_ , she added in her mind. Not giving him a second thought, she went on her quest to find her next cup of coffee.

She heard the buzz of a vibrating phone somewhere behind her. The security guy's steps retreated to his booth. _Fine, he won't try to speak to me again_ , Jane thought gratefully.

* * *

Carlisle heard the phone ring four times before Emmett answered.

"Hello," the old man said. "I'm alone now; my company just left. Now listen, here's what we're gonna do." The old man sat cross-legged. His back ached a little. "We have to bypass Jane and get ahold of the "C" folders. Tonight."

 **A/N** Please, review! Any idea what happens next?


	4. Chapter 4

LoopyLou, Lotty, Sally, thank you so much! Thanks to Stephenie Meyer too, of course. And to Catherine Hardwicke!

 **A/N** Please have in mind Edward only _thinks_ he knows how to check for a pulse.

 **Chapter 4**

Jane's forehead was wrinkled in disbelief at the shocking sight before her.

Aristotle had tied the intruder's wrists to the massive hook where Jane's map used to hang and had obviously given him a few blows. The man's brow was bleeding, and he stood in a somewhat slumped position, probably hurting somewhere else too. Jane assumed her uncle had struck _after_ tying the man up, simply because Aristotle was short and skinny, and got easily intimidated. The intruder, on the other hand, was huge.

The most unbelievable fact was that Jane knew him, and she thought she'd known him well. He'd been working here for years now, always smiling and polite although a little dumb.

Being on the security staff, he was supposed to be a guardian and not the person to steal folders from people's offices, for God's sake. She hadn't known him at all, it now showed. _Emmett, the idiot. Here I thought he was plain irritating._

"And he was here in my office when you caught him?" she asked once again, still refusing to believe the story her uncle was telling her.

"Right in front of the drawers, dear. Flashlight in hand."

"Thank God you had the gun on you, uncle," Jane sighed. "He might have been dangerous."

"We _are_ in danger, my child," Aristotle announced. "I don't think he planned this by himself. I'm guessing others will come."

"What now, uncle? What shall we do with him? We can't turn him into the police."

"No, we can't. We should ask him some questions ourselves. Do you know the best methods of retrieving answers, my child?" Aristotle asked, gently brushing Jane's golden locks with a finger, his head slightly tilted to the side.

His niece had this amazing, exalted glimmer of merciless cruelty in her eyes —a true Volturi. She knew the answer to his question, and she delivered it in one short word, "Pain."

* * *

Edward was very pleased by the fact he was invited to Bella's apartment on Sunday morning. Thrilled, actually. Breakfast with Bella sounded great; he could get used to it. She was making pancakes, she'd said. Come and let me feed you, she'd said, then we can go for a walk.

It was not as sunny as the day before, but the morning was beautiful, full of life with the exhilarating sound of bird songs in the trees and bells chiming in Edward's head. He was _floating_ over the sidewalks, moving smoothly around every corner and alongside brick walls, which blurred in his peripheral vision; he felt like an animated superhero. He always caught a green light before crossing a street, which he took as a sign from the skies confirming he and Bella had a future together. Definitely a sign.

 _Isabella. That's a Spanish name,_ Edward's thoughts swayed. _But Bella? That sounds more like Italian. Bella, as in beautiful. Or, how did Jasper call her? Bells? Nah, that's too … small for her. Bella suits her better. Now, Jasper? That's one hell of a name._ Edward snorted. Not that there was anything funny about Jasper; he was just fine. His name, though. A gemstone. _Tanzanite; that's what would suit him. His eyes are that blue._

Edward stopped in his tracks and swallowed. He realized there had been a smile plastered on his lips until then, but it had suddenly vanished. He was a little confused. _Blue eyes, blond hair, cold features, just the opposite of Bella's chocolate brown and hazel warmness. I'm not sure which I prefer more. Ow, scratch that; Jasper is a dude. What am I even thinking?_

A couple minutes later, he was approaching the building where Bella and Jasper lived. The proximity of Bella's apartment added vigor to his stride, and he caught himself running into the lobby and up the stairs. With the excitement about his date— _it's a date, right?—_ making a harsh reappearance by imitating a punch in his stomach, Edward almost failed to see the curled, unmoving body on the second floor.

* * *

"No? Really, Emmett?" Aristotle's fist flew up and collided with his captive's jaw. "I don't take no for an answer, security boy." The impact of his knee against Emmett's groin sent the huge man, hanging by his rope-tied wrists, almost kneeling, his cheek pressed against the cold wall. His torso was shaking with a succession of grunts, and his shoulders and elbows cracked, bearing his whole weight.

Jane approached from behind her polished mahogany desk. What she was armed with was her red stiletto, its sharp heel pointed at Emmett's left eye. A sweet little smile formed on her lips, her eyes calmly focused on the sweating man's face.

"Do you think I should twirl this, Emmett?" Her voice was even calmer than her facial expression. "Who needs two eyes, anyway?"

Emmett spat a mixture of saliva and blood. Some of it remained on his chin and glistened under the fluorescence of the artificial light.

* * *

Edward kneeled, forgetting how much he wanted to look neat and nice for Bella. His light blue jeans were going to become gray with dirt, but he didn't even think about it. He thought he had the general knowledge of what to do when checking for a pulse, so he grabbed Carlisle's wrist and pressed a thumb against it. He felt nothing. What those people in the movies did, feeling dying characters' throats, was beyond him. He never knew what they searched for, but he pressed two fingers against Carlisle's neck just in case. He felt nothing again.

Panic stricken, he sat on his heels and sobbed. The good old man was dead. The fucking old man had expired, right there before entering his home, or on his way out, or who the hell knows, maybe he was eavesdropping on neighbors, or having fun hanging on the stairwell … Oh shit, Edward's thoughts were a frantic mess. They scrambled and screamed helplessly in his head. He was at an absolute loss.

Bella and Jasper. They should know.

He gently tucked a strand of the old man's gray, disheveled hair behind his ear and rose to his feet.

"Sorry, I have to leave you for a while, sir," he mumbled then mentally slapped himself for speaking aloud to someone who would never, ever hear again.

Or see. Or breathe. Or exist.

Edward was crying in earnest as he ran farther up the stairs, desperate to call for help. He banged on Bella's door loudly several times in a row, even kicked it, and then he thought it might be unlocked so he pushed the handle. It _was_ unlocked. Edward plunged into the apartment and started yelling his friends' names through hiccups and sobs.

Both Bella and Jasper appeared in the hallway, and Bella met him with a hug. Jasper's hand rested on his back and massaged gently.

"Ca-carlisle; he's d-dead," Edward barely managed. "Downstairs, at his door."

They rushed out, Bella in flip-flops and Jasper barefoot, to find the door to Carlisle's apartment ajar.

There was no dead body in sight.

Bella and Jasper looked at each other in dismay, but Edward tore ahead and pushed the door wide open. Then they all saw Carlisle. He was crawling on the floor. His left leg and arm seemed utterly useless, dragging lifelessly, and he only used the right side of his body to push forward. When he heard them calling his name, he turned his head. His face was horrid, the left corner of his lips molded into the frightening half-grin of a satire mask.

His eyes, though, were the most frightening thing about him. Dried tears had given way to horror and despair. They stared into nothingness, unblinking and unfocused, mad.

One thing was obvious, the Carlisle they'd met the previous day was gone.

* * *

Emmett knew morning had come. He heard voices in the great hall; visitors moved along the exhibits, chatted, laughed, and clicked their cameras. He was alone; he must have been unconscious when his tormentors had left him, a piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth and hands still tied to the hook. He tried to listen more intently and distinguish the voices that penetrated the half-glass door. Maybe Aristotle and Jane were right outside, conversing. He didn't hear them, but that meant nothing. They could be out there, silent. Standing near, or mingling with the visitors, but keeping watch on Jane's office's door. Minutes passed. Emmett needed to pee. He was hungry, too, and, also, in awful pain. More minutes passed, he was losing patience; his mind began plotting reckless escape plans.

Emmett was strong. He had muscle, and stamina, and the advantage of youth. He pulled at the rope once, to check how well the knot was done. The rope was thick, a really durable one, and the knot was a masterpiece. The hook, though, was rusty. He pulled once more. His wrists burned. The third pull resulted in the hook breaking, and he was free from his bindings.

Now, he had to leave the building. And he did the thing that maybe only he was capable of, not giving it a second thought. He simply burst through the door and ran for dear life.

 **A/N #2:** My dear friends, I need you to tell me what you think so far. Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to Loopy Lou, Lotty de Bonte, and Sally Hopkinson aka Alice's White Rabbit. We're a team, right?_

 _Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. The original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer._

 **Chapter 5**

"Bella, call for an ambulance. Edward, let's pick him up."

Jasper gave directions in a steady voice; his friends seemed to believe he knew what he was doing. In fact, he only supposed he'd recognized the symptoms of a possible stroke. He could be completely wrong, but one thing he knew for certain: he wouldn't just stand there and leave the man unattended.

Carlisle's body was feather-light and so fragile in his and Edward's arms. They took him to the nearest room, which, luckily, happened to be a bedroom, and placed him gently on a bed.

"Tissue. I need a tissue," Jasper went on. "And let's cover him with a blanket. He's cold; he shouldn't lose body heat."

Bella rushed frantically and returned with a towel and a roll of toilet paper from the adjacent bathroom. She handed them to Jasper and whispered, "Will these do?" Jasper nodded and snatched the supplies from her trembling hand. He wiped the dribble from Carlisle's chin while Edward was tucking a blanket around the freezing body.

Carlisle was following their every move with his mad eyes. Unexpectedly, he tried to speak, but what came out of his mouth was mere slurred nonsense. More dribble appeared on his lips, and Jasper wiped once again. The young man placed a palm on the wrinkled forehead and tried to calm his neighbor. "Hush. Help is coming." Carlisle's good leg started moving under the blanket, forming a nervous rhythm. He was giving signals, which Jasper couldn't read; somewhere between being impatient, or hurting, he kicked and pounded the bed, unable to deliver an intelligible message. Jasper couldn't know what the suffering man was trying to convey until he noticed tears in the unblinking eyes.

"He's in pain, dammit! Let's turn him to his right side, Edward! Quickly!"

Edward stood numb and petrified for a fraction of a second, until, seemingly, his brain functions unlocked and he hurried to help.

 _How does he know what to do_? Edward wondered. Carlisle's kicking leg had calmed down immediately, and they sat and waited, silent. Seconds and minutes dragged agonizingly until the ambulance siren brought them up to their feet again.

* * *

Emmett was shot in the arm. The material of his blood-soaked shirt was clinging to his open wound, so he tore the sleeve off while he was running; his steps didn't falter.

He had no idea where he could hide. He just ran and ran through the streets; passersby averted their eyes from him—a criminal in a dire situation, apparently—and avoided him, making way, never bothering to look twice.

He wasn't calling for help or collapsing on them, after all.

* * *

None of the three friends were allowed to see Carlisle after he was taken to intensive care. They stood in the hospital lobby, waiting for some news, any news.

Bella needed coffee. She spotted a vending machine but was bitterly disappointed to find out the stupid thing was out of order. Thank goodness, another visitor informed her there was a working one on the next floor. She had no choice but to leave her companions and go. Coffee was a must. She asked if anyone wanted refreshments and went on her quest.

After Bella was gone, Edward's gaze wandered over a middle-aged couple, seated on a very uncomfortable sofa near the window. They were holding hands. Their relative, or a friend, was struggling with death inside that intimidating hospital unit, possibly losing the fight. The couple conversed in hushed voices, the woman squeezing the man's hand every other minute. A bit later, a nurse approached them and spoke to them in a sympathetic voice. The couple burst into tears. They clung to each other in a desperate embrace, shoulders shaking, fists gripping at collars, the woman's wails echoing through the thick air of the lobby.

Edward was sweating. A phantom hand had clasped around his throat, reducing the supply of air to his lungs to a life-threatening minimum. He was frightened and anxious, and too confused by his feelings. He had only met Carlisle the day before, and these emotions were utterly irrational. But he knew: he was afraid of death. He abhorred the thought of death. The violence of his abhorrence at this particular moment shook him to the core. His frame slumped; he realized he was pathetic, not able to be brave in the face of bad news. And while his soul was in turmoil, his brain fought to find the courage to learn to cope with the disappointment and the loss. He managed to take a deep breath and attempted to square his shoulders.

"A little pessimistic, aren't you?" Jasper's voice came from close proximity, just behind his back. Firm hands rested on his hips and implied, pushing, that he should turn around. Next thing he knew, dry lips were planting a succession of featherlike, nearly non-existent kisses, following an uninterrupted trail around his neck, while Edward moved and turned, then his jaw was nestled in a heap of golden silk. He took another deep, although a little shaky, breath, and the hospital stench was replaced by a consoling, musky fragrance.

Edward wanted the moment to linger. Although he was now startled by the pleasurable warmness that ran through his veins, and terrified by the impulse to hold _a_ _man_ tightly, as close as possible and as long as possible, he wanted the moment to last forever. But he closed his eyes for several seconds, and when he snapped them open, he pushed Jasper away.

"I'm scared," Edward whispered, only for Jasper to hear.

"I know," Jasper whispered back. "But listen to me," he went on in a louder voice. "People are different, Edward. Made of different material. Some are fighters, and some are not. Those who are meant to be fighters are different too. Some fight injustice, in general. Others fight their own fears. The latter type, they are the bravest. That's what you have to remember. Be brave."

 _Easy to say,_ Edward retorted in his mind. _I have a whole lot of fears to fight._

For the rest of the day, he pretended that _moment_ had never happened.

* * *

Emmett remembered it was recommended to stop the bleeding by pressing onto a wound. He tore his other sleeve off and continued through the streets pressing the piece of cotton material firmly against his limp arm.

The neighborhood around him was familiar now. One block away was where Carlisle lived. That's where Emmett headed. Finally, he felt hopeful.

* * *

When Bella came back to the lobby, she noticed a greater distance between Edward and Jasper. She also noticed they stood with their fists clenched, as if preparing for a brawl. She was about to ask what had happened while she was away but the door of the ICU opened, and one of the doctors they'd seen earlier came out and approached them. The three froze in place.

"Your friend feels better now," the doctor announced and smiled.

Three pairs of lungs released the breaths they were holding with a swoosh.

 **A/N** Ahhh, sighs. I was worried, too.  
Btw, do you guys think there's a sentence here which deserves fanart? Like, a visual?


	6. Chapter 6

In the story so far:

 _We've met a Seattle University student, Edward, who wants to date a beautiful boheme named Bella. To his own bewilderment, he also fancies her flatmate, the fantastic-looking-when-wet Jasper. (We have yet to learn about Jasper's occupation!)_

 _We've met a retired, unfortunate historian, Carlisle, who desperately needs to get ahold of the "C" folders from the MOHAI archive. We've learned that Aristotle Volturi and his niece Jane run the museum and plan the destruction of said archive._

 _We've met Emmett, a security guy at the museum, who works for Carlisle's cause. He gets caught trying to steal those "C" folders, tortured to make confessions, and later wounded during his escape._

 _By the end of chapter 5 Carlisle's in the hospital with a stroke; Jasper has planted a succession of kisses along Edward's neckline to halt his breakdown; a battered Emmett is approaching Carlisle's empty apartment._

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. The original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

 **A/N** Lou and Sally, thank you.

 **Chapter 6.**

"Let's get drunk!" Bella's enthusiastic voice was a bit too loud for a hospital lobby. A few heads turned to scowl at her wordlessly with their troubled, wrinkled foreheads.

"We need to go home, Bella," Jasper replied. His voice was quiet and humming, a noticeable drawl giving away his exhaustion.

"Okay, let's go home _then_ get drunk!"

Shaking his head at Bella's still too-enthusiastic voice, and, mostly, at her too-enthusiastic attitude toward alcohol, Jasper turned to face Edward for the first time in the last hour. "Edward, do you want to come with us?"

Instead of answering, Edward grabbed Bella's hand and headed for the exit, pulling her in an indelicate manner. Bella stumbled and limped until her pace fell in line with Edward's. Once outside, they both waved hands to hail a cab. Jasper followed close behind, hands in his pockets, his head slightly tilted to the side while he took in the view of the _perfect_ couple before him.

"Sweet," he said. "Go drink yourself into oblivion, Bella. I'll clean up after each of your prayers to the porcelain god. As usual. Maybe your new friend will hold your hair up?"

"I will hold whatever she wants me to hold," Edward finally spoke. "Just watch me."

Jasper smirked and gave no further retort. A cab stopped by them, and he hurried to take the passenger seat.

* * *

Emmett had visited Carlisle's place only once. Good thing his memory was excellent, and he found the building easily. Climbing to the second floor in hopes it would be his last effort, he mentally practiced a little speech to excuse himself for not being able to retrieve the files. He was very proud, though, because he hadn't given up Carlisle's name and knew he would be forgiven.

He knocked on the door and waited. Then he knocked again and waited some more. Suspicion and fear crawled under the remains of his shirt, his skin bursting in goosebumps after a small shiver. What if they'd got Carlisle?

Emmett had no phone, no money, no ID, nothing. They'd taken everything from his pockets. They were probably waiting for him at his place.

He had nowhere else to go. He was defeated.

* * *

When they entered the building, Edward held Bella's hand again. No one was rushing up the stairs. Jasper dragged his feet after the couple. He just wanted to take a shower, freshen up, then reassess his tactics about Edward.

The guy was in denial. He totally refused to acknowledge his body's reaction to Jasper's touch. But Jasper had seen and had _felt_. If not homosexual, Edward was at least bi.

"No, not again!" Edward's exclamation startled Jasper, then Bella screamed, "My God, he's bleeding!" and Jasper had to push the two of them aside to take a better look at the landing on Carlisle's floor. He inspected what would be the second unmoving body for Edward to encounter in the day. This one was obviously breathing, and tearful eyes looked straight into Jasper's.

"Looking for Carlisle," the injured man murmured and banged his head against the doorframe, "but he's not home. I have no idea where he is. He's not home." The man took a shaky breath and banged his head again.

"We happen to know where Carlisle is," Jasper started. "I need to know who you are to him."

"Is he all right?" Emmett exclaimed.

"Who are you?" Jasper repeated. "What do you want from Carlisle?"

"Name's Emmett. We used to work together."

"Oh." Jasper recalled the name immediately. "So he talked to you on the phone yesterday?"

Emmett nodded. He didn't know which conversation Jasper had in mind, though. Probably the one in the early afternoon when Carlisle had mentioned having company. Yeah, that would be it. They didn't know about his mission, for sure. He decided to keep his mouth shut about the museum _incident_.

"Look, we don't have the key for Carlisle's apartment but you could come with us upstairs. First things first, your wound needs to be taken care of. You've done a good job stopping the bleeding."

 _What does he know about wounds,_ Edward asked himself, awe-stricken, just like in the morning when Jasper had known exactly what to do about a stroke.

* * *

Emmett devoured Bella's pancakes. Edward observed the disappearance of bite after bite into Emmett's mouth—like a video in loop mode—and admitted to himself he wasn't the one who needed the breakfast right now. If a man could ingest such a huge amount of food and be eager for more, he must have been famished. Edward's shoulders sagged. He emptied his second glass of bourbon, on the rocks, and asked for another. "Add more ice, Bella," he said, "and that's my last one. I don't want to be wasted before noon." He hadn't imagined his date like this. Not at all.

Jasper was out of sight. No one saw him retrieve his cell phone from his pocket while he left the kitchen.

"Hello, Sir," Jasper spoke into the handset, closing the door of his room from the inside and leaning against it, just in case. "I think I've got your intruder with me."

* * *

"So, why don't you tell us how you got that wound?" Jasper asked. Emmett had finished his meal and now rested on the kitchen sofa.

"I'm not sure, Jasper," Emmett lied. "Maybe a crossfire between gangs. I didn't see where the shot came from."

"And why didn't you go to the police?"

"Dunno. What's the point? Do they ever catch the villains?" Emmett shook his head and yawned. "Look, I'm tired. Can I just have some sleep until we have news from the hospital?"

Emmett was indeed desperate for some sleep; that suited Jasper's instructions perfectly.

Bella knew she was about to throw up. She had asked Edward to join her in her room, but the walls spun, and spun; nausea climbed up her throat and scratched at her insides as if she had swallowed a sand storm. Finally, she admitted her defeat, her blurry mind registering that her effort to impress the man had gone in vain.

"Now, Edward, I'm afraid it's your turn to witness my lack of performance," she blurted and fell into bed where she started snoring almost immediately.

Edward didn't feel that bad. He wasn't sleepy, he just needed some time alone. An hour or two to let the alcohol dissipate. He headed for the kitchen in hopes of finding something to eat; maybe his new friends had some food, other than the pancakes. His steps faltered a little bit, and he was just slightly dizzy. Something about the walls in the hallway created the illusion of dark, splashing, stormy ocean waves at the edge of his peripheral vision. He staggered once, then straightened his posture and entered the kitchen to bump right into Jasper's chest.

"Oh, there you are," Jasper announced and crashed his lips against Edward's.


	7. Chapter 7

Smooches to Lou and Sally! You're simply the best, ladies.

 **Chapter 7**

Aristotle Volturi was a man with a sharp mind. He had Emmett's belongings with him after he had emptied his captive's pockets thoroughly. Once he opened the list of last calls from Emmett's phone and saw Carlisle's name repeated quite a few times, he put two and two together immediately.

"Marcus," he was speaking into his expensive, modern handset a minute later, "we have to pay a visit to an old friend."

* * *

There was a fucking _halo_ around Jasper's golden hair with the sun shining brightly through the kitchen window. Edward blinked a few times, not able to distinguish Jasper's shadowed features quite clearly, and tried to comprehend what that kiss meant. He pushed at the firm chest before him and sucked in a deep breath. Jasper's grip on his arms was hurting; well, nearly hurting and maybe just a little bit helping him stand upright. The dizziness had become nastier, now combined with the effort to name the feeling which had formed in his stomach.

He realized his thoughts had become girlish. _Butterflies_ , that's what came to mind about what happened with his stomach.

 _Yeah, that's girl talk. I'm a man, dammit,_ he recollected and pushed a second time with real force. The grip on his arms loosened and, in the next moment, Jasper was on his ass on the kitchen floor. Giggling.

"Now, now. Edward, was it that bad?" Jasper smirked, helping himself onto one knee.

Edward didn't know what to say. No, it wasn't that bad.

Emmett stirred on the kitchen sofa.

"I'm gonna go fetch him a blanket," Jasper announced quietly, already standing. "Look, I'm sorry. Couldn't help it."

He left the room, leaving Edward absolutely dismayed.

 _Okay, food,_ Edward remembered. He opened the fridge and helped himself to a piece of cold, unappetizing, leftover pizza.

Then Jasper was back in the room, tucking a blanket around Emmett's sleeping body while Edward chewed absentmindedly. The cloud of golden hair approached with that stupid halo around it again, and Edward couldn't help but notice that Jasper looked like an angel. A cold-faced, cunning, perfect angel whose teeth, at the moment, were biting his full, also perfect, lower lip.

"Look, we need to talk," the angel said in a low voice. The teeth stopped disturbing the lip and a smile appeared on the face, which was now too, too near. "Ah, you got something here." A finger approached Edward's mouth and picked something at the corner, grazing slightly. The finger flew to the full lips, a tongue appeared and licked at something red, and now the angel turned into a bloodthirsty vampire with crimson-stained lips and eyes too dark to be real.

 _Ah, tomato sauce_. Edward shook his head to clear his mind a little.

"Are you all right?" A palm rested on Edward's cheek, and a thumb glided over the skin under his left eye. "I don't like the shadows under your eyes, and you're so pale. I think I need to get you into bed." Jasper was whispering. Edward shivered.

"No, I'm fine," Edward blurted out.

"Shush, we'll wake him up." _Oh, right, Emmett._ "Come to my room." Jasper was still whispering. He held out a hand. Edward didn't take it but obeyed the inviting gesture thoughtlessly and stood up.

The several steps down to Jasper's room were of immense importance. They helped Edward clear his vision. He understood he felt attracted to both inhabitants of this apartment. And he realized he knew nothing about them, other than the fact Bella was a bohemian with a drinking problem, and Jasper was a man of surprising knowledge about strokes and wounds. He needed to know more. Especially about Jasper.

* * *

"Aro, I thought he had retired from the museum," a tall man with greasy long hair spoke while he held the door for Aristotle Volturi.

"He has, but it seems he still has an unhealthy interest in my deeds. Now, be quiet, Marcus."

The tall man shrugged and reached for the master key from inside his pocket. They entered the building and ascended to the second floor without further discussion.

* * *

Jasper's room had a huge bed, a set of bookshelves, a wardrobe, a TV stand, and a small desk with a MacBook on top. There was only one chair, and Edward was invited to take a seat. Jasper plopped on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and burying nervously playing fingers in his hair.

"Uh, this is a mess," he said. "We do need to talk, right?"

 _Right_ , Edward thought and started attacking Jasper with questions right away.

Ten minutes later, he knew a bit more about the girl and a lot more about the man.

Bella came from Forks, where she had lived with her father. He'd been a cop and got killed by a drug addict a couple years ago. To make a long story short, the poor thing had witnessed her father's murder, left town, lived on her father's pension, and drank herself to a stupor regularly. She hadn't been in any long-lasting relationships and, according to Jasper, was not capable of one. Not in her state of mind.

Jasper, too, was not born in Seattle. He had come all the way from Texas because he had some relatives here; he was seeking a better future for himself. He was between jobs, having worked as a bartender, then construction worker, but also an assistant at a nursing home (at that point Edward got his _a-ha!_ moment about Jasper's medical knowledge), and was now aiming at a position in children's day care.

 _Now that's a surprise,_ Edward thought, gobsmacked. _But then, why not. He's actually very gentle and caring when he wants to be._

Jasper had liked the neighborhood and searched for a place to rent for a while until he'd met Bella in a bar. She'd been looking for a housemate. They'd sealed the deal right after he mentioned he was gay and wasn't interested in anything but a place to live. They'd been living together for almost a year.

Edward and Jasper chatted about everything and nothing for a while. And then, two things happened within a several second timespan: a startling noise came from the second floor and Bella barged in.

"There's someone in Carlisle's apartment," Bella shouted.

* * *

"So much for secrecy." Aristotle grunted and grabbed Marcus's hand, leading him out of the apartment in haste. "We are finished here anyway."

With his lips pursed and eyes full of bitterness, the man named Marcus dragged his feet with obvious effort.

"Hurry up, my friend," Aristotle insisted.

"God, I hate him so much. We need to find where he is, Aro."

"He's in a hospital."

"What? How do you know?"

"Didn't you see the syringe and all the mess beside his bed? It's the only logical explanation. He's been ill and taken to a hospital. We only need to ask someone if they've seen an ambulance, then you'll believe."

There was a girl in the street. Jumping rope, her little feet tapped a steady rhythm until she faltered, surprised by a scary-looking man who snatched at her shoulder. The rope snapped his arm and he squinted. His greasy hair hid one of his eyes when he bent to speak into her ear.

"Young lady, I have a question for you," the man said, and the girl peed a little in her pants.

* * *

"Now we call the police," Bella announced, looking at Carlisle's opened door. "I'm sure it was locked."

"It was," Edward confirmed.

"No, wait!" Jasper grunted. He snatched the cellphone from Bella's hand and threw it against the wall. "We're absolutely not calling the police."

His companions stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry." Jasper raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm going in to have a look inside, then we're going upstairs and I'll explain."

He bent down to pull at his trouser leg and uncovered a boot and a shiny gun strapped around his calf. He removed the gun and something clicked while he straightened his body and turned on his heels.

"Wait here."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. The original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

 **A/N** Lou and Sally, thank you again.

Previously:

" _Now we call the police," Bella announced, looking at Carlisle's opened door. "I'm sure it was locked."_

" _It was," Edward confirmed._

" _No, wait!" Jasper grunted. He snatched the cellphone from Bella's hand and threw it against the wall. "We're absolutely not calling the police."_

 _His companions stared at him, wide-eyed._

" _I'm sorry." Jasper raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm going in to have a look inside, then we're going upstairs and I'll explain."_

 _He bent down to pull at his trouser leg and uncovered a boot and a shiny gun strapped around his calf. He removed the gun and something clicked while he straightened his body and turned on his heels._

" _Wait here."_

 **Chapter 8**

"Wait here, my ass!" Edward mumbled a few moments after Jasper's disappearance. He pushed Bella out of his embrace and spoke to her in what he thought was a steady voice. "You don't have to be clinging at me so desperately, you know. I'm sure whoever produced that noise is long gone. I'm going in now too, but you'd better not. Just in case. Up you go." He patted Bella's back and tried to will her away. He hadn't noticed how they'd ended up wordlessly hugging each other after Jasper's startling outburst and deliberate destruction of Bella's old-ish but very useful cellphone. Not to mention Jasper's ownership of a gun, which was enough to scare the shit out of not only a young girl but also of a fully-grown and rather courageous man, which Edward believed he was. "Up you go," he repeated and squared his shoulders. Only vague traces of his dizziness had remained somewhere behind his temples; they paled in comparison to the worries and _what-if_ 's which suddenly invaded his mind.

 _What if they're not gone? What if they're still inside and Jasper is ambushed or attacked? Disarmed? Captured? Helpless?_

Within the blink of an eye, he stomped decidedly through Carlisle's goddamned, horribly gaping door, thoughts of Bella, who stubbornly stayed behind all on her own, vanished into thin air. Once inside, he stopped in his tracks and listened for noises and any sign of where Jasper might be. A strange ruffle behind a closed door right in front caused a somersault of his insides, the taste of fermented pizza compounds climbing up his throat until bile filled his mouth. Not a sound could be heard after.

 _Now, he's knocked out,_ Edward imagined. _Or worse …_

With a strangled puff of air from his inefficient lungs, Edward marched forward. Thankfully, his imagination wasn't inventive any more; it missed the opportunity to draw a picture of Edward himself being captured, or knocked out, and he was idiotically fearless. He only thought of Jasper in that moment and refused to believe he could be late and rendered worthless.

When the door he was approaching suddenly cracked open, he froze. But Jasper's boot, followed by a jean-clad knee then the golden mess of his hair, captured his attention, and he sighed, shoulders sagging, bile desperately calling to be swallowed back.

"Edward …" Jasper was unable to finish his sentence, busy with the effort to breathe normally. It was hard for the man to breathe, Edward realized, because he had thrown himself at the Texan and held him tight, arms encircling broad shoulders, chests flush, their ribs nearly cracking.

Dizziness returned full-force. Edward mostly felt, rather than heard, Jasper's giggle-snort against the bare skin of his neck. He loosened his grip a little, not letting go of the other man's body, which felt warm and so pleasantly firm and _alive_.

"Now you choose to develop fondness?" Jasper asked, mockingly shaking his head. Edward was sent into a burst of shivers by the tingling sensation of hair and skin brushing along his collarbone. A palm ghostly stroked his back.

 _And his other hand is busy holding a gun_ , he brusquely recollected.

Only now, he allowed himself to feel stupid.

* * *

"Nothing," Jasper said to a very annoyed Bella, who had waited for them with her arms crossed under her breasts and lips pursed into a thin line. "You care to explain this idiocy? Why didn't you go upstairs, Bells?"

"Oh!" Bella bristled. "I'm the idiot here? What about him?" Her chin was pointing at Edward, eyes still glued to Jasper's slightly reddening face. "Don't you dare get mad at me! I am the one with the right to be mad!" She was now shouting. "Who are you, at all?"

Jasper noticed tears welling up at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm not mad at you, Bells." He tried to sound calming, but he knew the growing redness of his cheeks gave up an entirely different emotion; there was a bit of madness, indeed, about Edward stepping behind him. There was also the comfort of being protected and cared for, and there was also the uncomfortable realization he now had to tell them some bits and pieces about his real occupation.

* * *

Carlisle woke in his hospital bed, and his first thought was about Emmett. He searched for his phone and found it in the night table drawer, right next to his pillow. _Thank God_ , he thought, _that didn't cost much effort_.

But it wasn't Emmett's voice that answered.

"My dear friend! What a happy surprise! I'm so _delighted_ to hear from you."

Carlisle felt a sharp spasm up his spine.

"Aro. You've got Emmett's phone."

"Precisely, Carlisle. Still a good sport to state the obvious. How's your _health_?" The last word was spoken with an audible hiss. Carlisle sensed the threat clearly.

"Aro, let us discuss things as we used to. In a civilized manner."

"Fair words, Carlisle. But a little out of place, given the robbery you were attempting. Where are you?"

"Fuck you, Aro."

"You know I can find—" Carlisle hurried to disconnect. He had heard about those satellite cell tracking devices.

* * *

"Right." They were seated back in Bella and Jasper's kitchen. Emmett was awake, and Jasper was about to tell them his story. Only he didn't know which part to tell them exactly. "Guess you have questions. But for now, I'm asking you not to voice them. I'm going to share what I'm, well, _able_ to share. To begin with, I'm not applying for children's day care. I have a full-time job. I work for the government. Have been working for them for more than three years. Back in Texas, and now, here. My current assignment is connected with an intrusion into the MOHAI archives. Our old man, Carlisle, happens to be the brains of that operation. Emmett here is his accomplice." Jasper lifted his gun for good measure. "Sorry, Emmett. You have to stay where you are. Don't make me cuff you."

Emmett huffed as his slumped shoulders seemed to carry a heavy burden. He sat back, after having just jumped to his feet, but had to obey the gun pointed at his head.

"Oh, man." Emmett gulped twice and buried his face in his palms.

Edward blinked and stared into the empty air next to his left elbow. The meaning of the whole situation evaded him. What now? Was he supposed to be afraid of Jasper? He lifted his gaze to try and look behind the blond's eyes, to understand. He was even more confused because Jasper fucking _smiled_.

"Don't worry, Emmett," Jasper said. "I know you're the good guys. We will just have to prove it."

Next, Emmett broke down and cried.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. The original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

 **A/N** Thanks again to loopylou992 and Alice's White Rabbit for pre-reading and betaing.

 **Previously:**

" _My current assignment is connected with an intrusion into the MOHAI archives. Our old man, Carlisle, happens to be the brains of that operation. Emmett here is his accomplice." Jasper lifted his gun for good measure. "Sorry, Emmett. You have to stay where you are. Don't make me cuff you."_

 _Emmett huffed as his slumped shoulders seemed to carry a heavy burden. He sat back, after having just jumped to his feet, but had to obey the gun pointed at his head._

" _Oh, man." Emmett gulped twice and buried his face in his palms._

 _Edward blinked and stared into the empty air next to his left elbow. The meaning of the whole situation evaded him. What now? Was he supposed to be afraid of Jasper? He lifted his gaze to try and look behind the blond's eyes, to understand. He was even more confused because Jasper fucking_ smiled _._

" _Don't worry, Emmett," Jasper said. "I know you're the good guys. We will just have to prove it."_

 _Next, Emmett broke down and cried._

 **Chapter 9**

"There, there." Edward patted the slumped shoulder of the huge man, who now looked almost fragile. "We're all going to help."

"Oh, yes, we are!" Bella added. Edward met her delighted eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. Guilt was molding a sharp-edged, heavy object in his stomach; it shifted and pierced his insides at the prospect of having to reject her next advance. Somewhere within the previous hour, he had come to the conclusion that he was irrationally attracted to Jasper, and after the realization he could have lost him, his emotions were set in stone. He knew he wanted to be close to Jasper. He wanted to be _very_ close to Jasper, and soon.

He didn't want Bella as a girlfriend any more. Fuck. He had no idea how that had happened. He had no idea what would happen next.

* * *

"Now we start with the nearest hospital, Marcus."

Marcus held the passenger door open for Aro then sat behind the wheel and drove off with a huff.

They got lucky.

The young nurse they met in a side corridor was too frightened of them and not selfless enough to guard the patient's safety and the hospital's good name. With her right pinkie broken, she was left sobbing, snot coming down her pristine, ironed, formerly sterile light blue uniform. She had told them where to find one Mr. Carlisle Cullen.

* * *

"Still no news from the hospital?" Emmett's voice was asking. Edward shook his head to clear his mind a little. Too much for one day, he thought.

Bella gasped and suddenly punched Jasper's arm.

"You bastard! I don't have my phone now! How is he going to call us if he needs us?"

"He has my number too, Bells. No worries."

"You owe me a new one, you know. Jerk."

"Yes, ma'am," Jasper drawled.

Then his phone rang. "Got it, sir. I'll be there," he said after listening to the buzzing voice for a while and hung up. He straightened his shoulders, turning to his companions. "I've been summoned for an emergency. At the medical center."

"Is it …" Bella couldn't finish her sentence.

"Yes. A nurse just called 911; I'll tell you later," Jasper answered in a rush.

He turned to leave and was quickly followed by the whole crowd.

"Whoa!" Jasper stopped in his tracks. "Where do you lot think you're going? Emmett! You're wounded. And, Bella, you're a girl for fuck's sake. Sit back down right now!"

"Yes?" Bella was again shouting at him. "Girls stay at home and do dishes, polish their nails, and knit? Is that right?"

Her yelling was disrupted by Edward's palms grabbing firmly at her shoulders. He stood, towering behind her, and calmly spoke into her ear. "I'll go. Stay with Emmett, okay?"

"Not you too!" Jasper wanted to exclude Edward from the action as well. He just didn't need complications. Plus, he didn't want to put anyone's life in danger despite the fact that danger had obviously taken aim at their little league.

"Jasper." Edward started, then kept silent for a couple seconds before he went on. "Nothing on Earth is going to separate me from you at this moment."

Jasper knew he had momentarily lost this fight. Something in Edward's long, fixed stare spoke of unbreakable determination.

"Fine." Jasper shrugged at last. "My car is around the corner. Hurry."

Carlisle realized his left leg didn't serve him well. He tried to kick Marcus's chest when his attacker leaned over his bed, but his foot only grazed the tall man's trouser leg and fell back on the bed, limp. Aro watched his useless attempts at self-defense and traces of amusement lit his evil eyes.

"You're a pathetic old man," Carlisle's enemy spoke. "Stop fighting and let Marcus do his job."

"What do you need me for?" Carlisle hissed. His weak hands were held tight with a thin rope now, which Marcus's long fingers knotted skillfully. "I didn't get my files; I can't harm you."

"As much as I enjoy the fact that you're aware of your own worthlessness, we still have issues to discuss, my friend. But the medical center is not the greatest of places for our conversation." With his last words, Aro shot a glance to the door and waved his hand toward it. "Let's take him to the museum now, Marcus."

Carlisle's body was lifted by the attacker's strong arms with minimal effort and thrown over his shoulder like a ragdoll.

He hated his useless left arm and leg. He hated his miserable being. He could do nothing but pray for a miracle.

When the miracle happened, he couldn't believe his eyes. His peripheral vision had caught a blurry movement to the left, and the next moment, Aro was on his knees, then falling in slow motion, until his body was sprawled on the floor. Jasper's smile appeared in Carlisle's field of vision, the blond hair tussled, a gun shoved into Marcus's neck.

"Surprise," Jasper sneered, and next he knocked the tall man's temple with the back of the gun.

Edward was there too, Carlisle realized, when his new acquaintance outstretched his arms and held his slumping figure, helping him stand on his feet while Marcus's senseless body joined Aro's on the floor.

"Okay, we're going home," Jasper announced. A knife's blade glistened, and Jasper cut the rope around the old man's wrists with one swift movement, then he pocketed the remains. "Can you walk, Carlisle?"

Carlisle nodded but snaked his good arm around Edward's neck.

"I can use a little help."

"What's happened to them after you left?" Bella asked when Jasper finished his story.

"My colleagues must have taken care of them. We shouldn't worry about them any more. They revealed themselves as criminals, trying to kidnap our friend here."

Carlisle sighed heavily. Something was off with the picture and the way his enemies had stupidly exposed themselves, but he dismissed the odd feeling. He felt good in his own bed, surrounded by four young people who turned out to be his closest friends and allies. Bella touched his hand gently then brushed his cheek with the tips of her fingers.

"I'm sorry you had to endure this," she said. "You're a weird old man, but you're a good person; such things shouldn't happen to good people."

Her smile touched his soul, and for the first time, he realized his neighbor was a really fine young lady.

"Okay, now." Carlisle felt uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting. "Leave the old man to rest. I'm good, just tired. I need my beauty sleep."

Bella chuckled and stood up.

"Okay, but I'll stay for a while. I'll cook dinner for you. If you need something, just shout."

"Coming with you." Emmett spoke for the first time in a long while. "I hope you don't mind the company."

Bella wondered why he wasn't going to his home, now that it was safe, but just shrugged and confirmed she didn't mind.

"It's good that we gave Edward and Jasper some alone time, you know. Something's going on between them; I can tell."

Something was going on, indeed. At the same time Bella spoke her prophetic words to Emmett, Edward and Jasper were kissing.

It began with a mild caress of lips. The moment they closed the third floor apartment's door behind their backs Edward's lips were on Jasper's, then Jasper's lips parted, and Edward's lips parted too, and their tongues met. The sensation brought tears to Edward's eyes. This was so simple. To give in to the attraction, really simple. _Relieving_.

He had watched in awe the way Jasper neutralized Carlisle's kidnappers. So confident, efficient like the strike of fate, a true force to be reckoned with. Jasper had been amazing, fantastic. Marvellous.

 _Straight out of a Marvel movie._ Edward couldn't help it and chuckled, breaking their kiss.

"What?" Jasper pressed a firm palm on his neck and crushed his lips into Edward's once again, giving him no chance to answer.

Edward's chuckle died, replaced by a gasp when Jasper's hand ghosted over the cotton material right under the lowest button of his jeans. Something moved down there; _oh, hi, pal,_ Edward thought and shifted his hips to push forward, harder, into the exhilarating tingle of the realization that Jasper's hand was palming his erection.

 _Guess I'm gay now,_ Edward concluded and deepened the kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

Hey!

Here's the next chapter. It's NSFW, you've been warned!

I am sure my gorgeous ladies, Loopylou992 and Alice's White Rabbit, enjoyed it.

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 **Disclaimer** : This is a work of fiction. Businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. The original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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 **Chapter 10**

The kiss lingered for a long time. Edward didn't know what to do with his hands, so he buried his fingers in Jasper's hair. He realized he had craved to grab and pull at that beautiful golden mess, and he grabbed, and pulled, trying to be gentle at the same time. He heard and sensed the tremble of Jasper's growl within the kiss. Something changed; Jasper couldn't stand still, and his hands started roaming. Edward mourned Jasper's decision to let go of his denim-clad, bulging groin while a delicate touch traced the outline of his neck, the shoulder, the arm, the elbow, and the wrist, and removed his hand from where it was nested in the golden silk. When their fingers became entangled, Edward felt a light squeeze, and their joined palms were pulled downward until they reached the front of his chest—to the right of his heart—and remained there. Jasper's body pressed incredibly close, and their hands got trapped; Edward could feel Jasper's heartbeat. It was fast, and strong, and compelling. His own heart thumped in his ears even faster.

The kiss was broken once again, and Edward suddenly felt cold when their bodies lost contact. Jasper had stepped away, still squeezing their palms together in the air between them. Their gazes locked for several endless moments, and Edward felt the need to swallow dry, time and again.

Jasper opened his mouth and took a deep breath, then held it for too long before huffing out loud.

"I don't think you're ready for this," he whispered and closed his eyes. He tried to pull his hand back then, but couldn't, because Edward didn't let go.

"Ready for what?" Jasper heard the other man whisper back. He opened his eyes to see a smiling Edward with green irises that sparkled in the late afternoon and pupils round and huge with unspoken emotion.

"I want to see you naked, Edward. I want my lips on your skin, I want my teeth on your nipples, I want my tongue on your opening. And I want you to make love to me, Edward. Are you ready?" Jasper was no longer whispering. His voice was gaining volume by the end of his little speech. He expected Edward to turn around and run.

But Edward didn't.

"Of course I'm not ready," he spoke. "But I want to try, with you. One step at a time." And in the next moment, he withdrew his hand and reached for the hem of his shirt.

It was Jasper's turn to swallow dry. Edward was undressing in front of him, a fantasy come true. He had seen the man almost naked—was it only yesterday when he interrupted Bella's guest's morning routine?—but he wasn't prepared for the sight at all.

Edward was still fully aroused, and it became very obvious when his cock popped out the moment his briefs went down. That cock was on the long and thick side, Jasper assessed, with a beautiful pinkish hue, covered with an intricate design of swelling veins. It was uncircumcised, and Jasper felt a new strong pull, wanting to reach for the skin and uncover the head which bulged there, hidden, allowing only a glimpse of a shy, little patch of purple skin and the most captivating sight of the little hole on the tip.

Jasper licked his lips and fell to his knees.

"Amazing," he said, his arms half-raised as if in a prayer to the figure in front, inviting Edward closer. "Come here. That cock belongs to me now."

Edward visibly shook, rooted to the floor for a while. He finally took a step, then another, and got close enough to Jasper's alluring lips; arousal kept his cock pointing straight ahead to the upcoming bliss.

He couldn't remember the exact number of blowjobs he had received, but this one was different, it was a first of its own kind. The cogwheels which clicked in his brain right now made it surreal, decadent, and so much more exciting.

Those were another man's lips, wrapped around his cock, pushing the sensitive skin forward to unveil the head, to lick the first drop of precome. That was another man's hand, sneaking around his ballsack, pressing gently near his hole, nails ghostly scraping and ruffling the little hairs along their path.

The golden silk swayed back and forth; Edward wished he could see all of Jasper's face but it was impossible, so he pushed the other man's shoulders and hinted he wanted a better view. It worked; he could see the luscious lips now, sliding along his length, and the tanzanite eyes which fixated him. There was tranquility in those eyes, but in the next moment, a glint of devilish playfulness appeared. The repetitive motion was rhythmic and hypnotizing. Edward couldn't fight the urge to pull at the golden silk once more, with both his hands. Somehow, his fingers had gotten frail, fragile, and the pull wasn't even half-efficient, but it made the bobbing head move faster, still fastidiously engulfing most of his length. Edward made a sound and realized it resembled the cry of a wounded animal. Nearly a wail, a muffled howl, a subdued weeping—a desperate, inarticulate plea for more. Still, it was what made Jasper slightly change his angle, and Edward's full length disappeared into that blessed mouth, sliding deeper inside the welcoming throat, until his balls rested against Jasper's slight stubble. Edward realized he was imprisoned by Jasper's hands which held his buttocks.

Jasper swallowed around him.

A myriad of small, burning bright stars blurred Edward's vision. A force of unrecognized magnitude was born in his heels; this force gained volume, climbing up his calves, through his knees and thighs; it reached his insides and burned brighter, blinding and shaking—bursting out, exploding, blowing away every connection to the earth, to the here and now.

Edward collapsed to his knees after Jasper's tongue licked the last trace of his come.

"That was—" Edward started.

"Shh," Jasper silenced him. "Don't." He reached for the trembling, naked man's forearms. "We both know what it was. Let me hold you for a while now."


End file.
